“And you’re the ones with that job? Cool. I can do that without a fancy brand though.” She takes out her pick. “It’s called killing.”
“Drugs? Nah. I spent thousands on a bag of the illegitimate child of mace, cocaine, and the sins of mankind. Then I tried to throw it at the guy who sold it to me, but it went back on me. Shoulda gone with my original strategy and baked it into bread that I’d hand out to homeless people.”
They wave their hands, as if signalling her to stop "No, the spirits are lost. We send them back to the afterlife with the brand." They said, nervously wringing their hands.
She blinks and cackles "That's an idea of I ever heard of one." She sits down besides him and leans her head back.
“Oh. How do they get lost?”
Riotan is slowly regaining sight and control over his appendages. “I have better ideas. Like finding really small and young worlds in the Material Plane and convincing the first denizens of these worlds to sin. Works like a charm.”
"Heck if we know." It shrugs and points to it's weapons "but these tangle em and send em back."
She grins brightly, her teeth showing "Oh I adore your thinking. Think about it, churches in your name just for them to realize you are their ruin."
“Cool.”
“Churches? Not for a few centuries, when they evolve to have the concept of counterculture.”
He nods "Say, would like to have a meal with us? It's about time for our dinner."
She grins and claps her hands "Beautiful. I adore it." She said, sighing in what is a mixture of amazement and adoration rolled in one
“Well… I don’t really eat, but sure. So long as I’m not intruding.”
Riotan is finally realizing that Stroth could be the perfect jumping-off point for his next cult. “Thank you for saying that. Few appreciate me, especially celestials.”
"Of course not." They beckon her to follow to where the others have set up camp.
Stroth ties back her long hair into a ponytail, thinking. She knows he is thinking something but she isn't sure what.
“And you’re the ones with that job? Cool. I can do that without a fancy brand though.” She takes out her pick. “It’s called killing.”
“Drugs? Nah. I spent thousands on a bag of the illegitimate child of mace, cocaine, and the sins of mankind. Then I tried to throw it at the guy who sold it to me, but it went back on me. Shoulda gone with my original strategy and baked it into bread that I’d hand out to homeless people.”
They wave their hands, as if signalling her to stop "No, the spirits are lost. We send them back to the afterlife with the brand." They said, nervously wringing their hands.
She blinks and cackles "That's an idea of I ever heard of one." She sits down besides him and leans her head back.
“Oh. How do they get lost?”
Riotan is slowly regaining sight and control over his appendages. “I have better ideas. Like finding really small and young worlds in the Material Plane and convincing the first denizens of these worlds to sin. Works like a charm.”
"Heck if we know." It shrugs and points to it's weapons "but these tangle em and send em back."
She grins brightly, her teeth showing "Oh I adore your thinking. Think about it, churches in your name just for them to realize you are their ruin."
“Cool.”
“Churches? Not for a few centuries, when they evolve to have the concept of counterculture.”
He nods "Say, would like to have a meal with us? It's about time for our dinner."
She grins and claps her hands "Beautiful. I adore it." She said, sighing in what is a mixture of amazement and adoration rolled in one
“Well… I don’t really eat, but sure. So long as I’m not intruding.”
Riotan is finally realizing that Stroth could be the perfect jumping-off point for his next cult. “Thank you for saying that. Few appreciate me, especially celestials.”
"Of course not." They beckon her to follow to where the others have set up camp.
Stroth ties back her long hair into a ponytail, thinking. She knows he is thinking something but she isn't sure what.
She follows with interest.
“So tell me about yourself. I’m sure my vague, satanic hints don’t make good conversation.”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
Out in the distance, the field next the village is sparkling. Some with true sight can see this sparkling aura is not one of magic but one of spiritual nature. Many spirits congregating here, lost and alone. As if on que, four leather clad figures ride down the hill on the adjacent side. They ride upon the backs of mechanical horses made of steel that are powered by some sort of black smoke. They wear large, wide brimmed cowboys hats fitted with bone pieces. They each wear a mask that covers their face. An owl carved crudely from bone, a snarling demon looking one with goggles over the eyes, one faceless black mask with no eyeholes made of stone, the biggest of the bunch wears a burlap sack that has tiny burnt out eyeholes and smile drawn on with charcoal. The throw lassos made of metal at the spirit's, somehow able to grip the souls and bring them down. They jump off their horses and produce a branding iron that they lay on the skins of the spirits. The spirits howl and thrash then suddenly disappear into the enteral mists.
-other characters-
Kazekiri is sharpening her nails while sitting on top of the water over by the lake.
Scott is with Tycho, watching him read.
Stroth is being an arse.
*oooooooooooo, nice!*
Tycho hums, on a page about 'mirror spirits' which are a subtype of demons
He raises a brow "What are those?"
"Mirror spirits." He looks over, "Ok, simple explanation rather than the long one. You know changelings? They're a subtype of fey."
"Ohhhhh." He said, blinking.
"And mirror spirits are to demons what changeligns are to fey."
"That's... Confusing.." he mutters and lights a cigarette.
Tycho nods, taking the cigarette away after a moment,
He hissed "Hey!"
"No smoking" he says with a smirk
Scott rolls his eyes, grumbling
Tycho hums, outting out the cigarette on his horn as he flips to the next page
He folds his arm but still watches him read
The book continues to describe mirror spirits as carnivorous
He raises a brow "They eat living creatures?"
"from the sound of it yes, otherwise it'd be called being a scavenger" he nods
Quote from AlaricBloodhunter_ :Mary follows, kinda like the reverse of someone walking a pet
They reach the tavern, and then shortly after, Reese's room. inside is, as was said, a large, comfy looking bed, a dresser, a fireplace, and a recliner.
“And you’re the ones with that job? Cool. I can do that without a fancy brand though.” She takes out her pick. “It’s called killing.”
“Drugs? Nah. I spent thousands on a bag of the illegitimate child of mace, cocaine, and the sins of mankind. Then I tried to throw it at the guy who sold it to me, but it went back on me. Shoulda gone with my original strategy and baked it into bread that I’d hand out to homeless people.”
They wave their hands, as if signalling her to stop "No, the spirits are lost. We send them back to the afterlife with the brand." They said, nervously wringing their hands.
She blinks and cackles "That's an idea of I ever heard of one." She sits down besides him and leans her head back.
“Oh. How do they get lost?”
Riotan is slowly regaining sight and control over his appendages. “I have better ideas. Like finding really small and young worlds in the Material Plane and convincing the first denizens of these worlds to sin. Works like a charm.”
"Heck if we know." It shrugs and points to it's weapons "but these tangle em and send em back."
She grins brightly, her teeth showing "Oh I adore your thinking. Think about it, churches in your name just for them to realize you are their ruin."
“Cool.”
“Churches? Not for a few centuries, when they evolve to have the concept of counterculture.”
He nods "Say, would like to have a meal with us? It's about time for our dinner."
She grins and claps her hands "Beautiful. I adore it." She said, sighing in what is a mixture of amazement and adoration rolled in one
“Well… I don’t really eat, but sure. So long as I’m not intruding.”
Riotan is finally realizing that Stroth could be the perfect jumping-off point for his next cult. “Thank you for saying that. Few appreciate me, especially celestials.”
"Of course not." They beckon her to follow to where the others have set up camp.
Stroth ties back her long hair into a ponytail, thinking. She knows he is thinking something but she isn't sure what.
She follows with interest.
“So tell me about yourself. I’m sure my vague, satanic hints don’t make good conversation.”
*Sorry, I was eating dinner.*
They give her a bowl of what looks like chili with red beans and ground turkey.
Stroth raises a brow, grinning "Me? Why that's silly. I would much rather like to know who you are?"
Out in the distance, the field next the village is sparkling. Some with true sight can see this sparkling aura is not one of magic but one of spiritual nature. Many spirits congregating here, lost and alone. As if on que, four leather clad figures ride down the hill on the adjacent side. They ride upon the backs of mechanical horses made of steel that are powered by some sort of black smoke. They wear large, wide brimmed cowboys hats fitted with bone pieces. They each wear a mask that covers their face. An owl carved crudely from bone, a snarling demon looking one with goggles over the eyes, one faceless black mask with no eyeholes made of stone, the biggest of the bunch wears a burlap sack that has tiny burnt out eyeholes and smile drawn on with charcoal. The throw lassos made of metal at the spirit's, somehow able to grip the souls and bring them down. They jump off their horses and produce a branding iron that they lay on the skins of the spirits. The spirits howl and thrash then suddenly disappear into the enteral mists.
-other characters-
Kazekiri is sharpening her nails while sitting on top of the water over by the lake.
Scott is with Tycho, watching him read.
Stroth is being an arse.
*oooooooooooo, nice!*
Tycho hums, on a page about 'mirror spirits' which are a subtype of demons
He raises a brow "What are those?"
"Mirror spirits." He looks over, "Ok, simple explanation rather than the long one. You know changelings? They're a subtype of fey."
"Ohhhhh." He said, blinking.
"And mirror spirits are to demons what changeligns are to fey."
"That's... Confusing.." he mutters and lights a cigarette.
Tycho nods, taking the cigarette away after a moment,
He hissed "Hey!"
"No smoking" he says with a smirk
Scott rolls his eyes, grumbling
Tycho hums, outting out the cigarette on his horn as he flips to the next page
He folds his arm but still watches him read
The book continues to describe mirror spirits as carnivorous
He raises a brow "They eat living creatures?"
"from the sound of it yes, otherwise it'd be called being a scavenger" he nods
*I might need you to cut this Alaric. I'm sorry :(*
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3 Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3 Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
"I agree. my turn to be pillow!" She says while unhooking the leash and dashing to the recliner, stripping the rest of her armor as she walks, now in her comfy underclothes (shirt and pants) as she sits down, sighing.
Marcy hums, looking around her room, "This tavern is odd is it not? Seemingly endless space"
“I am an elven archmage of some fame. I’ve written many books on the multiverse, magical systems, and monsters of all kinds. I’m called Thirteen.”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"Of course not." They beckon her to follow to where the others have set up camp.
Stroth ties back her long hair into a ponytail, thinking. She knows he is thinking something but she isn't sure what.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
She follows with interest.
“So tell me about yourself. I’m sure my vague, satanic hints don’t make good conversation.”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
Mary follows, kinda like the reverse of someone walking a pet
"from the sound of it yes, otherwise it'd be called being a scavenger" he nods
“Good that it was of some use then.”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"Wow, these places are always comfy" she smiles
*Sorry, I was eating dinner.*
They give her a bowl of what looks like chili with red beans and ground turkey.
Stroth raises a brow, grinning "Me? Why that's silly. I would much rather like to know who you are?"
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*I might need you to cut this Alaric. I'm sorry :(*
"Hm. Like a crab or vulture."
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*can you keep it, uh, kosher?*
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs
Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
*sorry. Rp anyone?*
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs
Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
*eating living creatures is mostly kosher :<*
*I mean pigs aren't, and neither are cheeseburgers, but... well thsoe are delicious*
"yep. These ones i belive eat people and animals. Though i've never seen one in person"
Marcy hums, looking around her room, "This tavern is odd is it not? Seemingly endless space"